PLANNING THE RETURNThe air in the war room was thick with the smell of old paper and the sweat of men who hadn't slept in days. Demetrius stood over the table, his fingers tracing the jagged lines of the front trenches. He looked older today. The shadows under his eyes were deep, like bruises.

I stood by the window, watching the rain wash over the stone courtyard. Below, soldiers were sharpening swords. The sound of metal on stone was a constant, rhythmic scrape that made my teeth ache.

"We ...